Does He Care?
by DenniBenni
Summary: Set after Tim is fired from being Robin. Tim contemplates on if he cares or not that Dick has taken the Robin mantle away. ONESHOT.


He was lost. Completely lost. He didn't know where to go from here.

What else could go wrong in his life? First his mom, his dad, friends…Bruce.

Now…This.

It was becoming way to much.

How could he do that. The knowledge still burned in the sixteen year olds head and chest.

Burned more then anything had in a very, very long time. Even after his friends and family had died.

It was all he had left. There was nothing else. Nothing else he needed or wanted. No more goals.

No more dreams.

Nothing.

Just a hell of a life left.

And it was _**his **_fault!

His so called "_brother_" had taken the last thing that meant something to him.

He took away Robin. He took away the name and the costume. Then gave it to someone who mine as well the Devil's kid sent straight from Hell!

Damian.

The name was always spat off his tongue like some kind of poison.

Which in all reality it was.

A poison.

A fire.

A damned curse.

He hated Dick for it.

He wanted to scream at him, hit him, _murder _him. But, no. He wouldn't cross that line.

"_Never cross that line," _he would always think.

_Never._

Now he was crumbled on his hands and knees on top of a building in Gotham.

Tim Drake.

He had finally broken.

He didn't even know where he was, being that he had walked around aimlessly and blindly.

Going no where.

A sob escaped his mouth for what felt like the billionth time. He swore his stomach muscles were going to rip in half.

"_How could he!" _He screamed in his head. It was all he could really think about as the rain pelted him as it fell from the night sky.

He didn't mind the rain though. It hid the tears that streamed his young face.

"_I don't care…I don't care. I shouldn't give a damn!" _But it was a lie. He cared so much it was ripping him apart from the inside out.

He opened his eyes to see his hands below him. One covered with rain. The other…a red crimson that he could barely make out in the night.

He had cut open his knuckles from punching a mirror a few hours earlier. It should have hurt…but he couldn't feel a thing.

He clenched his fist feeling the small black pebbles that covered the roof fill his hand.

As he squeezed his hand tighter the pebbles began to poke into his palm.

He growled in frustration as more tears squeezed from his eyes. He shut them in some attempt to stop them.

It failed.

"_I failed," _he thought. But it quickly turned bitter, _"but, I don't care!"_

Even after he told himself that over and over, it still wasn't the truth.

It couldn't be the truth.

He looked over to the ledge that was only a few feet away.

One…two…three…four…five…

Five movements brought him over to the it where he peered over the edge.

He saw the lights from the street below.

He could barely see them, but they twinkled like the tiny stars that he hardly ever saw in Gotham.

To many people…to many lights.

Maybe people didn't have anything to do with it, but he didn't care.

He didn't like to many people.

He blinked back his tears that were making everything blurry to try and clear his vision.

It sort of worked.

Sort of.

He gained enough strength to stand from his bent over position.

There was barely enough motivation.

Once he stood he felt rain droplets drip down his body. Sliding ever so slowly.

Along with the blood from his knuckles.

Sliding…slipping.

He was slipping.

He could feel it.

Sense it.

See it.

It was there waiting for him to succumb to his anger.

Waiting for him to jump off the side of the building and end it all on the pavement below.

Let all those people that walked around in their own little worlds know his pain.

Witness it.

Finally he screamed, "how could **YOU**!"

He strained the word you, barely able to make it escape his lips.

Even though it wasn't his brother's name, it still stung for it to leave his throat.

"If only **you **could be here to watch me jump," he mumbled only for it to be silenced by the rain.

"_But if I don't care, then why would I jump," _he wondered.

He looked down at the street below for the second time. All he could see were the tops of umbrellas and the occasional person without one running by.

"_What if I do care," _he thought. He didn't want to care. But if he jumped it would show he cared.

He slowly looked up at the sky feeling the rain slam into his face leaving him wet and cold.

If he jumped, that would give them satisfaction. _Especially _Damian.

They would know how badly it hurt him. How crazy it made him.

He shook his head, _"I'm not crazy."_

Slowly, ever so slowly he made up his mind.

He lowered his head to look back at the street.

He felt a tinge of pride when the words left his lips in a small whispered that was carried away by the howling winds.

"I** don't **care**."**

With that he turned and walked away from the edge.

"_You will _**not **_have the satisfaction," _he thought. "_Because I will never care."_

Still though…he knew deep down…

That was a _lie. _

He would always and forever…_care.___


End file.
